


Golden Tale

by Aurona



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Angst is in the air, F/M, IchiHime Secret Santa, Ichihime - Freeform, Ichihime AU, Ichihime Disney AU, Romance, The Little Mermaid AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 03:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13309905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurona/pseuds/Aurona
Summary: Since he was a young boy, Ichigo Kurosaki had always loved the sea. She was not supposed to be doing this... The thrill of the forbidden urged her forward... - Ichihime Secret Santa bonus prize for Momo on Tumblr! The Little Mermaid AU, Possible continuation if received well.





	1. Chapter 1

Since he was a young boy, Ichigo Kurosaki had always loved the sea.

Living in the coastal Kingdom of Karakura did that to a boy, of course. Well, either that or it would send them so far inland they would wind up in a dessert just to escape the memory of a foggy day and the sound of seagulls.

Ichigo felt both sympathy and humor toward his plight.

Uryuu Ishida, a fellow Prince from the Kingdom of Quincy, and his longtime (reluctant) friend did not understand his love for the sea. He had found himself a pretty Queen only a summer ago, the daughter of a scientist of all things, and was being groomed for the crown. Ichigo knew it would be only a matter of time before he heard news of a child, and he was admittedly happy for his brother-in-royal-arms.

Unlike Ichigo, he seemed to thrive off the politics of court, and enjoy the pampering to an extent. And perhaps that was due to an overbearing father.

Ichigo's upbringing had been far less by the "royal book", as it were, given that his own father was a lunatic. A great and just King, he would admit, but a lunatic nonetheless. He had been given far more freedom from a youthful age, despite being next in line for the crown, and there lied the problem. By sixteen, he had decided to enlist in the good services of the Royal Armada. In fact, King Isshin had been proud, saying that it was good his son wanted to work with the military. He firmly believed that any young King should know the men he governed, even if they were only a few.

Not being one for romance of any sort, even though he was considered handsome looking in a rough, forbidden (berry) fruit sort since - the Lady Yoruichi's words, not his – Ichigo had never settled down. Had never been interested in even trying. Instead, he had spent his younger teenage years working his way up, striving to soon lead his own fleet of ships. With not the power of the crown backing him, but his own prowess as a sailor.

Ishida had wanted the safety and comfort of his Palace. The predictable, safe environment he had been raised in knowing he would someday rule. And Ichigo thrived out at sea, wherein but a moment the tides could turn for better or worse.

Such a moment was now.

**.**

The storm had snuck up on them.

The wind howled in his ears, the thunder crashing above head shaking him down to his very bones. His clothing stuck to him like a second skin, weighed down and wet with salt water. Fierce waves rocked the wooden vessel he stood on, and its frame creaked loudly in protest but continued to hold firm. No, their ship would not be pulled down to the depths just yet. But they would be tossed around like a cork until the storm passed.

His hands, gripping a rope the same thickness as his wrist, gave hard pull as he and half a dozen other men fastened down one of many canons. He loathed the damn things for being as heavy as they were, despite the many times they had come in handy against pirates. He had already seen a man crushed to death by one coming loose of its tethering, and in a storm not unlike the one currently ravaging the sea. Rainwater stung at his eyes, and he ignored the urge to close them as he focused on his task of looping the rope through several large rings. But with every rock of the ship, the canon slid a bit further and they were forced to correct its positioning and start over. It became a battle to keep it in one spot.

"Kurosaki!" His head snapped up at the sound of his name. The rough voice of the first mate Renji, a tall man with fiery red hair, called him. At first, many men had been afraid to address him so informally. Renji had taken to it with more finesse than anyone else he knew.

Like Ichigo, he was soaked to the bone. His wild mane of hair sticking to his face and neck just as much as his clothes. Any other time, Ichigo might have called him a wet dog. He pointed a finger up toward the main mast, and Ichigo's eyes reflexively followed. With horror, he realized one of the sails was coming undone, and were that to happen with the winds raging as they were, the results would be catastrophic.

He nodded quickly in acknowledgment, and with one final hard tug of the rope in hand, he passed it off to Chad Yasutora who quickly gained control of the situation and began directing the cannon into place. Hopefully, they would have better luck with his dark-skinned friend leading them.

And then he was off, racing toward the center mast at full speed. It was only through years of practice that he was able to move fluidly between the scrambling of his shipmates as they struggled to gain control of the deck. So, focused in their tasks, they were just as likely to send him overboard as the tops of the waves as they rolled into the railings of the ship and sent rivers of water crashing into his shins. Several times he almost lost his footing, but he continued to move forward with lock-jawed determination. When his hands finally grasped the familiar ropes of the ratlines, he began to climb.

Out of everyone on the  _Senbonzakura_ , Ichigo was the fastest climber. Truthfully, he the fastest at doing much of anything – the Captains' first mate, Renji, teased him often at the implications of what that could mean in the bedroom. More often, it was shown during playful sword fights and races. But now his skill came in handy more than ever. As quick as the sails were coming undone, he climbed – up and up and up – until he was perched on the edge of the crow's nest, a place he was quite familiar with. He had spent many hours keeping look out for other vessels, storms, and familiar landmarks. He knew the upper masts just as well as the back of his hand. Even so, this did not offer him comfort.

He wiped sweat and water off on his already soaked through trousers, before straddling the long mast and inching his way toward the slowly unfurling sail. His legs were just long enough to hook his ankles together and give him a semblance of control as the ship rocked with each wave it hit. Being as high as he was, it seemed far more exaggerated and violent.

All the while he eyed the rope that had come loose as it whipped in the wind. And he prayed the wind would not shift out of his favor. A lash from the thick rope could easily break skin, or even bone. And that was the last thing anyone needed. He continued to inch forward, holding on for dear life as he shimmied over to the loose sail. Once on top of it, he began to pull it tighter, dragging in the flailing rope and tying it securely.

Once it was secure, he began the slow task of moving back toward the mast. Several cries of terror came from below, and his heart froze. As he turned his head, the world seemed to slow.

It was gargantuan, and entirely twice the size of the ship. Its cap was pure white as it rolled in on itself, lightning reflecting off its black waters. For its size, it seemed almost slow at first. But any sailor of worth knew it was anything but.

Within moments, it collided with the side of the ship, water rushing over the top so quickly and in such enormous amounts one would think the ship was sinking into the depths. The hull creaked, and rails snapped, sending wood scraps exploding toward the crew as they raced to find purchase. Cries of horror were drowned out as several men were pulled overboard and into the swirling depths.

The horror continued, as the ship jerked to one side, and his white-knuckled grasp proved worthless.

He fell.

He saw it all in slow motion. The way his fingers lost hold of the ropes and curled to try and catch the folded edge of the main sail in the last attempt. How he missed by just half an inch.

The sky lit up with lightning, but he couldn't hear it anymore. He couldn't hear the thunder, or the crashing of the waves. He could not even feel the cold sting of the rain and wind on his skin, or the heavy wetness of his clothes. Suddenly, he was numb. An observer to what was about to happen.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Renji racing along the main deck. His red hair a beacon in the grey world around them. The only person he knew aside from himself who had been given the curse of such a vibrant hair color. Somehow that felt strangely significant to him.

He hit the water, and darkness fell over him.

…

She was not supposed to be doing this.

The thrill of the forbidden urged her forward, cutting through the water quickly with the barest flick of her powerful golden tail. Under the water, the currents pushed against her. The sign of an approaching storm. Even for her, it would be dangerous to continue through these waters. She should be searching for shelter from the currents, not diving toward them.

And yet…

She had seen the ship. The grand vessel Rangiku had told her humans used to travel, rather than swimming on their own. At first, she had thought them lazy. But Rangiku then told her that humans were terrible swimmers, and she blushingly relinquished her first judgment. Her curiosity, however, was piqued.

Mermaids notoriously stayed away from humans, preferring to let them be on their way and out of their destructive warpath. Few mermaids – Rangiku being one of them – even went so close as to spot humans. Because if you could see them, the odds would be they would spot you as well. And the horror stories of humans who caught mermaids in traps suggested they thrived on torture. Rangiku, one of the few lady warriors, had recounted these tales to her having seen them first herself. Likely to try and frighten the girl, and keep her curious heart far away from the world of men.

And for 18 years, it had worked.

Her tales of men and how they beat mermaids, male and female until they cried their precious tears stuck with her throughout the years. But none as much as the horror of finding a few had even sampled mermaid flesh in hopes of immortality.

" _Beasts,"_  Rangiku had said, her voice sad as she recounted the events.  _"Mermaids do not give immortality with their flesh… not_ that _way."_

Even so, despite these tales, she was doing what was quite possibly the most stupid thing she could ever do. If Rangiku were to catch her, she would be chained up in the Spring of Penance until the next full moon.

She glanced around, nervous that she would be caught. At the sight of nothing but empty sea surrounding her, she felt a mix of unease and determination. If something went wrong, no one would be there to help her. Adversely, if something went wrong, no one would  _know_.

The large belly of the ship was in sight, rocking as the waves above shifted restlessly. It would not be long now. Just a few more flicks of her tail and she would be able to  _touch_  it. From here, she could see the many barnacles that had made their homes on the traveling human creation.

Her fingers twitched, and she curled her arms to her chest. And once again, she looked around. She half expected Rangiku, or Tatsuki to shoot out of the depths and wrestle her away. They would surely be furious with her. The thought made her hesitate, even as she approached.

Just a few more feet. If she stretched her arm…

Before she could talk herself out of it, her arm snapped forward, fingers outstretched to graze the rough wood.

A thrill shot through her, a silly smile covering her lips. She felt so brave! So strong, and powerful like Rangiku! She ran her hand over the wood, pressing her palm to it and trailing her hand between the clusters of barnacles. As if petting the belly of a whale.

_Maybe, ships are human land_   _whales?_  She mused thoughtfully.

Her hands clasped together in front of her chest at the thought, her radiant golden tail flicking behind her with exhilaration. She wanted to learn so much more! Suddenly touching the ship was not enough. What could she learn just from touching it? Maybe if she could catch a peek of a human…

She shook her head as if dispelling the thought, her incredibly long sunset colored hair drifting in a soft dance around her head from the abrupt movement.

"Oh no…  _no_ … that's a terrible idea…" She murmured to herself, casting large curious eyes up toward the ship despite herself.

Rangiku had said they even looked different. That they had…  _legs_.

She couldn't take it. Quick as a flash, she was swimming up toward the surface, trailing her hand along the belly of the ship as it widened, and barnacles became fewer and fewer.

She stopped. Just feet from appearing through the water. The last shred of her self-preservation was insistent on fighting her. She bit her lip before squeezing her eyes shut and flicking her tail once to push through the surface.

Immediately, she was met with frigid air and the spray of sea water. Thunder and lightning lit the sky, and sent vibrations down through her bones as icy rain stung her cheeks. It was all so different from the underwater currents. Her eyes snapped open, now wide with wonder.

She ship was large, so very large! It was tall too, higher than she thought possible. Three logs, larger than she had ever seen, stuck straight up toward the heavens. Attached to each log was a vertical log, bound along the bottom with a something dull and white. The log in the middle of the ship was by far the largest, and as she squinted up to the top she could see a small basket. She could not make heads or tails as to what  _that_  would be used for.

Now that she was above water, she also noticed something else. The ship had made softer sounds underwater, but above water it groaned and creaked as if it was about to be pulled apart. Its rocking, which had been softer under water, were exaggerated and large. The waves that hit it did far less to move her than she ship. It seemed with every wave it was in danger of breaking.

_Fragile_.

But she wasn't only hearing the ship now. She was hearing voices too. The loud shouts and yelling of men giving orders and taking orders.

_Humans_.

But the ship was so tall and large she couldn't see them. Not for the first time her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she considered her options.

She should leave. That would be the smart thing to do.

She eyed what looked like a series of ledges in the edge of the ship. Likely to be what humans used to climb onto it from the water. It would be risky, and difficult. But…

She gave a flick of her tail, pushing herself up to grasp the swaying ledge and lift herself up out of the water. Her arms strained for a moment before she settled her rear on the edge of the bottom most ledge. She took a shaky breath.

"Rangiku… Tatsuki… don't be angry." She prayed with a whisper, crossing her fingers together in front of her chest before gathering her strength and starting her climb up. The thought that she was on a dangerous edge between being the most daring mermaid and the most stupid drifted through her mind, but she pushed it away.

Finally, she reached the top and peeked over the edge.

It was chaos, and she could not pull her eyes away. Men, tall men dressed in cloth and leather  _ran_  along the flat top of the vessel. With  _real_   _legs_! Many were laden with rope, others were carrying large crates in twos and vanishing through a hatch into the belly of the ship. And she realized then that the ship must be hollow in the inside.

_How incredible!_

Her fingers curled tight over the edge, her grip firm so she didn't fall as her eyes took in every detail. The men were all so… strange. New and unfamiliar.

"Fuck! Watch out!" A harsh curse nearby caused her to jolt, tucking herself up against the side of the ship tightly in fear as her self-preservation skills finally kicked in. Not a moment later, several feet along the edge of the ship, the railing exploded. A large metal object exploded from the wooden shards, many of which only narrowly missed hitting her. The dark metal dove into the depths with a loud splash.

Now, with such a large hole to see through, she could see them _. Him_.

His vibrant hair struck her first. Not unlike her own in its uniqueness, but a different shade that was completely his own. He had a strong jawline, and his lips were set in a scowl that made her heart flutter strangely. Though she could not clearly see his eyes through the thick mop of orange hair escaping the tie at the base of his neck, allowing many strands to fall into his eyes, she imagined they would be piercing. Capturing.

He was standing up from the unstable flat wood, hoisting a scrawny man with dark hair up by the back of the cloth on his top half. And she realized with another flutter that he was tall, and quite strong despite his lean appearance. One of the tallest men on the ship, it seemed, as the man he held dangled in the air before he was set roughly back down on his feet.

"S-Sorry, Prin- I mean, Ichigo." The dark-haired man stuttered, scrambling to grasp hold of the edge of the rail. She pressed herself firmly against the side of the ship, her fingers turning white with her grip.

"Sorry doesn't cut it Keigo! Go help the others with that canon!" The man, Ichigo, gave Keigo a push in the opposite direction before racing off toward the other side of the ship.

Orihime let out a sigh of relief when Keigo raced off as well, allowing herself to relax enough to inch slowly back down the edge of the ship.

The humans were not handling the storm well, it seemed. They were struggling to keep the ship from falling apart in the storm. And as tender-hearted as she was, she knew that if she stayed any longer she would do something stupid. She had already broken so many rules. She could help them by telling them which way the current was running, and where the storm was heading, but…

Speaking with a human was a death sentence.

She took a shaky breath, inching her way back down the side of the boat. Chilling screams of horror froze her in her place. And she turned, instinctively  _knowing_.

Under the water, it would be a formidable wave. The current would drag any mermaid along, tossing it within itself no matter how strong a swimmer they were. But outside the water, it would be worse. So much worse.

She drove down toward the water, knowing the impact would hurt even her, but it was too late.

It hit, rising to meet her, and carrying her up and over the edge of the ship. Her heart seized with panic as she collided with the railing, and flipped end over end onto the deck. But it was not done. It drug her along, the wood scraping at her bare arms and opening cuts with the rusty nails that had begun to come loose. Several times, she felt the hard contact of another body hitting her own before they too were pulled along. By the time she hit the other side of the ship, her head colliding sharply with the inside of the railing, she was thoroughly bruised and hurting.

The water on the deck quickly dissipated, and she realized with horror that she was  _on the ship_. Her eyes snapped open, having closed before in fear. And at once she made eye contact with a tall man with fiery red hair. He stopped, mid-run, his mouth agape at the sight of her. She jolted into action.

Her arms flailed, hands scrambling on the side of the shift to hoist herself up. Her tail gave a hard shove and she launched herself over the edge of the deck. And as she fell, she was met with another shock. She wasn't the only one falling from the ship. She hardly had time to process that information.

It was pure luck that she hit him the way she did.

Her soft, feminine body hit his masculine one, and they both twisted in the air from the force. Without thought her arms wrapped around his broad torso, fingers grasping the wet cloth covering his chest.

They hit the water with a crash.

For a moment they floated in the current, tumbling as it pushed them along. She twisted, digging her fingers into his shirt as his dead weight began to slide out of her grip. Pulled out of her arms as the current natural fought to separate them. And for some inexplicable reason the thought terrified her. She couldn't let him go, could not lose him. Her arms slid under his, and she pushed back up to the surface even as the water fought her, instinctively remembering that humans could not breathe underwater the same way mermaids could. He had to get above water, even if that made things so much more difficult for her.

When they broke through the choppy surface, the sea was just as wild as it had been when they hit. Only now the ship was further away, drifting as the storm continued to batter it. Heading toward the worst of the storm. And she knew that if any survived, the ship certainly would not. Taking him back would be a death sentence for them both.

The male in her arms groaned, coughing and spluttering water despite being unconscious. His head lolled on her shoulder, heavy.

"I'm sorry," She found herself crying, tightening her hold on him. "I'm so,  _so_  sorry!"

Hoping somewhere deep in her heart that the man in her arms would come to forgive her, she swam.

…

The first thing he saw was a sunrise.

Long strands of the strangest gold and orange variety, creating a halo around a pale heart-shaped face, falling to tickle the side of his face that was not in the sand. And a set of large grey eyes that reminded him of a gentler storm, framed by long eyelashes. The kind that carried soft rains, and the laughter of children as they splashed in puddles outside. Lips, like that of pink coral, parted to say something he could not hear but desperately wished he could.

An Angel? He did not think he deserved one, but he would not complain.

Her silky hair fell over her shoulders as she shifted closer, and he felt a warm palm cup the side of his face. A sweet scent wafted from her skin, something he could not name but wanted to hold on to nonetheless. His eyes closed, as he reveled in the Angel's touch unabashed. But suddenly, it was gone. And his eyes snapped open. This time, he was greeted by a sunset.

Multitudes of blue, orange, and purple mixed together overhead. Creating a stunning effect as the sun dipped in the horizon over the calm crystal blue sea. It was a beautiful painting that would never, and could never, truly be captured by any artist. Its beautiful serenity had him gazing blankly at the horizon line through heavy-lidded eyes for several minutes before it all came crashing down on him. The vision of the woman was tucked away in the back of his mind to ponder on later.

Flashes of dark, stormy skies and the feeling of rough, wet rope running through his hands. The wooden mast, his only sense of ground, lurching out from under him when the wave hit. Rain obscuring his vision, hitting stinging cheeks with the sensation of thousands of tiny needles. The cold dread in his heart as he fell. A flash of something bright, and golden. Then the darkness that came with unconsciousness.

He could feel it. The soreness that ran through his limbs, as if he had just crawled through three miles of sand on his hands and knees. The ache of his bruised muscles as they shifted under his equally bruised skin, as he took the deep breath he thought he might never be able to take again. Unbidden, and with varying amounts of pain lancing throughout his elbow and shoulder, he brought his hand to his left pectoral. A heartbeat. His heartbeat, steadily thudding inside his chest.

Against all odds, he was alive.

By some miracle, or more likely leftover adrenaline, he did not feel any broken bones on his person. Though in his head he knew the fall would have  _at least_  shattered half the bones in his body. Falling into the water from that height should have  _killed_ him. Even if it did not, the sea would have taken him in his unconscious state.  _Should have_. And despite what many of his friends would say, he was not a  _complete_ idiot.

Someone had saved him.

Slowly, so as not to jostle any injuries he may not yet feel, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Sand stuck to his clothing, which was now stiff and dry, smelling strongly of salt water as it clung in memory to his skin. His jaw clenched as his left side throbbed, and he made the quick deduction that that side of his body had taken the brunt of the fall.

Again, a part of him noted that were that the case the left side of his body should have been shattered. He had seen men fall from lesser heights, in certainly less perilous situations, and their chances of a full recovery were slim to none.

He sat back on his heels, groaning openly as he felt his ribs shift inside his body with a low crack. His hand moved to prod the area, feeling for any abnormal tenderness to suggest internal bleeding or breaks. When he felt none, he let out a relieved but confused sigh.

Assured that he would live – for now – he took a moment to look at his surroundings.

The shape of a familiar sandy shore. The same craggy rocks he had played on as a child, and the same old small vessel wreck that had been there for the past two summers.

And he heard it.

"Ichigo!"

"Ichigoooo!"

"Kurosaki-sama!"

"Ichi-nii!"

His head turned toward the sound of familiar voices shouting, calling for him.

A small group of people, but faces he knew. His young sisters, the twins, racing as fast as they could toward him in the sand. Karin raced ahead of them all, dressed in what suspiciously looked like a pair of his old trousers. Young Yuzu was not far behind, lifting the skirts of her pale-yellow dress so as not to trip as she rushed after her sister. Behind them, he could recognize his father slowly gaining on them by the wild flapping of his red cloak. Right on his heels, their most trusted (if not peculiar) family friend and advisor, Urahara followed. Even from where Ichigo sat, he could see the odd man's fan fluttering with excitement as he took in the scene before him.

Despite the spreading relief in his heart that somehow, he survived, he found himself turning away from the happy scene of his family rushing towards him. His eyes drifted back to the golden sunset.

And for a small moment, just a fraction of an instant, he saw something. Something that he would spend the next week thinking about, questioning, and trying not to drive himself mad over.

A lone figure, standing shoulder deep in the water. Impossibly long auburn hair, which rivaled that of the changing color of the skies, dancing in the water as soft waves rolled in toward the shore. Her lips parted, eyes closed, offering the sweet sound he had been unable to hear before when she had been so close. It was clear, and soft. Her voice rose above the waves, but also seemed to coexist with their natural sound in such a way that it took his breath away. A sense of inexplicable rejuvenation filled his soul.

"Ichigo!"

His head snapped over, and he was given hardly a moment before Karin and Yuzu shot into his arms and sent him tumbling back with a groan of pain. Immediately they began to apologize and look over him for wounds, Yuzu crying openly when she saw the many bruises covering his exposed skin.

"We thought you were dead!" Yuzu cried, tossing her arms around his neck once again in a tight hug he quickly returned. Karin, the more stoic of the twins, appeared to be holding back tears of her own as she wound her own arms around both her sister and her brother in a far gentler hug.

"Don't you ever do that again!" Karin scolded into his shoulder, and he heard the distinct sound of sniffles.

"I won't." He promised, his voice hoarse and throat dry. And he meant it.

"Let's get you up Ichi-nii… before Papa and Urahara-san catch up. You need to get fed. You look so exhausted..." Yuzu pulled back, rubbing her cheeks with a large smile of relief. There would be no questions, not yet anyway. And for that, he was glad, as he had no idea how he would even start to answer them.

For the second time, his gaze drifted back toward the calm sea. This time, searching.

She was gone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Her palms cupped her glowing cheeks as she swam, fast and strong, cutting through the water like a knife. Farther and farther away from the shore, and deeper down into the dark crags of the ocean that would guide her home. The adrenaline – the knowledge that for just a moment he had  _seen_  her – urged her forward.

 _Eye contact._  And it had been incredible; his gaze had stolen her breath away.

In that instant the hard, scratchy dry sand of land no longer phased her. The heat of the sun drying out her scales was nothing. The second his eyes had opened to reveal molten amber, something in her chest had constricted. Most mermaids and mermen had eyes the color of the sea; she had never seen eyes such a beautiful and warm color. She had nothing to compare it to, nothing that came close.

She came to a halt, glancing over her shoulder as if she would somehow see him. Of course, that would be impossible by now. Besides, she should have felt satisfied by now.

She had watched them - his  _family_  - go to him and smother him with joyful affection. Happy that he had been brought home safe and sound. And she watched as they lead him along the beach, staggering in his weariness, and toward the large castle. A castle that she soon learned to be his home. She thought it strangely fitting that he was a Prince among the humans.

She marveled at the fact that the man she had saved was a  _Prince_. She had only intended to bring him to the nearest human settlement – and every mermaid knew of the human Kingdom by the sea. She marveled at the absolute dumb luck she had managed by bringing him  _home_. And for his family to have found him.

Leaving him on the beach had been surprisingly difficult, even if he seemed to be in good hands. He had looked so confused, so lost, that it made her heartache. And still, she had left. Even as she wanted nothing more than to stay beside him. To meet his eyes once more. Her self-preservation had won out, finally rearing its head once she had heard people calling for him –  _Ichigo_  – and she had fled.

She had saved him, left him on the Beach where he would be safely found – and by people who knew him, something she could only count as dumb luck – so her job was done. She had broken several laws, perhaps even hundreds. She had gone to the surface, and with the singular intent of seeing humans up close. She had even climbed onto one of their floating vessels, something she knew that only the strongest warriors dared to do for the danger was so great.

And above all else, she had  _physical contact_  with a human. Something that was so forbidden, so insane, one would be committed for insanity at the mere suggestion that contact would not bring physical pain. She had even saved him from drowning and had gone to great lengths to do so by swimming for a full day and night with his unconscious body in her arms. But the most shocking and terrible of all her transgressions…

She had  _healed_  him _. Cried_ for him _._

Now the best thing she could do now would be to put the last two days behind her, swim as  _far away_  from him as she could, and never return. To forget that the past two days had ever happened and move on with her life.

But  _Gods_ , she could still feel him in her arms. He had been so big compared to her, muscular yet lean and heavy, and she feared at first that she would not be able to keep his head above water. It had been so difficult to carry him through the water, let alone drag him onto land, and she was still sore and tired from her efforts.

 _It was worth it._  A traitorous part of her whispered, remembering the feeling of the human man laying in her arms. Unknowingly entrusting his entire life with her.

" _Stop_ that…" She murmured to herself, closing her eyes tightly, as the ghost of his warmth seemed to echo across her skin. His cheek on her throat, stubble scratching her clavicle, and his nose brushing her jaw in an action so intimate she had nearly lost her grip the first time it happened. She could still feel it as if she still held him. And it had to  _stop_.

It was over. She had saved him. And she would  _never_  see him again.

For some reason, the thought of never seeing him again sent her heart to her throat. Choking her.

" _Why_...?" Her voice was a whimper carried away by the soft current. "Why can't I stop thinking about him?"

She was afraid of the answer.

"Oooh, so you were off seeing a young merman, were you?" A smooth voice giggled in Orihime's ear, so sudden and abrupt that the young mermaid ended up rolling end over end in her shock, arms pinwheeling, and tail flailing as she tried to right herself.

As she corrected herself back into an upright position, brushing her long hair away from her face, she met the laughing eyes of one of her dearest friends.

"R-Rangiku-san!"

The beautiful warrior mermaid grinned, waving a slender hand in dismissal as Orihime's hands smoothed her now wild hair back into place.

Rangiku was one of the most beautiful, and one of the strongest mermaids Orihime knew. Her hair was long and golden like the sun, her skin perfectly tanned, and her tail was the most beautiful seashell pink Orihime had secretly envied for years. She wore the traditional bone armor of a lady warrior, which strapped across her chest and guarded her shoulders. Strapped to her back, was a long whalebone sword.

She was a warrior, beautiful, and everything Orihime  _wasn't_.

She reached forward, pulling Orihime into a fierce hug.

"You silly thing! We've all been looking for you for almost  _two days_  now! And here you are, visiting a little merman  _lover_." She pulled back, winking at the now scandalized Orihime as if they had shared a secret. Meanwhile, Orihime was left to babble incoherently as her friend pat her head affectionately.

"I'm so happy my feminine charm is rubbing off on you Orihime – really, I am – but everyone has been so worried." She cupped Orihime's cheeks, and their foreheads gently touched. It was an affectionate action, shared only by family members and lovers. Orihime had no family, and no lover to speak of, but Rangiku had always been something of a mother figure to her and the action touched her heart. Rangiku, and Tatsuki–  _they_ were her family.

"I'm sorry Rangiku-san…" And she was, though not for the reasons Rangiku suspected. Regardless, her apology was accepted with a soft smile from the woman she had grown to consider something of a mother.

"Next time you sneak off, just let me know. I'll make an excuse that won't have everyone worry… Tatsuki in particular." She grinned, looping an arm through Orihime's and cheerily pulled the embarrassed mermaid toward home.

"But when we get home…" the beautiful mermaid smirked, holding up a single slender finger. "you need to tell me  _all_  about him."

Orihime paled.

**.**

By the time the luminescent underwater city came into view, Orihime wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed and rest. Her swimming had grown sluggish and lazy, but if Rangiku noticed she did not comment. They swam slowly over the underwater roads of pure white sand, past large stone buildings carved into smooth structures that towered and twisted into elegant shapes that made up the sprawling city of Human legend.

The trip home had taken little over half the day, and Orihime was forced to downplay her weariness lest Rangiku suspect something of her. She had done so much swimming in the past day that she was surprised her fin hadn't fallen off. Now that the excitement and adrenaline were long gone, she could feel her muscles ache and cry for much-needed rest.

As they made their way home, to the more modest stone buildings in the shadows of the Royal Palace, mermen and merwomen alike greeted her and Rangiku with warmth and relief. They swam away from their shops and out of their homes, embracing her with open arms.

"It's so good you've returned Orihime-chan!"

"Thank goodness Rangiku-san found you, we were all so worried!"

"Rangiku-san, Orihime-chan! Where in the seven seas did you run off too?" An elder merwoman with a murky green tail scolded, pinching Orihime's cheek just a little too hard as she swam by. Orihime apologized softly.

"I'm going to grind your tail into  _sand!_ "

Orihime froze as the familiar growl reached her ears.

Tatsuki was a dark-haired and petite purple-finned merwoman of renowned strength. By the time she was thirteen, she was making a name for herself as a warrior. Now, at eighteen years of age, she was quickly rising up the ranks of the lady warriors and well on her way to becoming a Lieutenant. Rangiku often joked that someday the young mermaid would be her superior; a Captain.

She was dressed in the light armor of a warrior and had a whalebone spear stepped to her back at an angle. The armor was made of carved bone and whale-leather, with shoulder guards, braces over her forearms. Like Orihime, she wore a cloth wrapping around the chest for modesty's sake.

Her wild shoulder-length hair was bound in several intricate crossing braids (of which Orihime had helped her with only that morning) to keep it out of her face. Unlike Rangiku, Tatsuki was not deadly in thanks to a deceptively soft appearance. Where Rangiku was curvaceous and long, Tatsuki was lean and fast. A true warrior in body and soul.

And currently, said warrior was swimming rapidly toward her at breakneck speed.

She began to backpedal, deciding that  _maybe_  it would be best to sleep in the small caves outside the city so that Tatsuki would have time to calm down-

She was tackled into the sand by the dark-haired and very  _angry_  purple-finned merwoman. Her plans of escape were halted before they even began.

"O-owie! T-Tatsuki-chan, please stop it-  _owie!_ "

"You dummy!"

The young lady warrior snarled, bearing her pearl white teeth as her hands gave another sharp tug on a handful of the squealing golden tailed mermaids hair. Her tail, while thinner and shorter than Orihime's, was far stronger, and easily held Orihime's flailing one in place as she continued her punishment.

The usual neighborhood bystanders watched the scene completely un-phased, and one by one simply shrugged it off and continued on their way. It was not an uncommon sight, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time they saw it. Tatsuki was prone to scolding Orihime in such a way almost weekly.

"I'm going to use your own thick skull to do it too!" Her hands continued to tug, and the young mermaid squealed in protest. Her hands flailed in the water but made no real move to stop Tatsuki's assault.

"I'm s-sorry Tatsuki-chan!" Orihime cried, "I just-just lost track of time!"

Tatsuki's punishment suddenly ceased as she threw her arms around the younger mermaid, squeezing her in a bone-crushing hug. It took Orihime very little time to return it, maneuvering her arms awkwardly around the long spear strapped to her friends back. She knew that had it been possible, Tatsuki would be crying with relief. And that only made her feel even more guilty.

"Now, now Tatsuki…" Rangiku reached down, seemingly done waiting for their reunion to end, and lifted Tatsuki up by the strap of woven material that bound her spear to her back. The smaller lady warrior clenched her teeth, clearly not at all pleased with being handled in such a crude way. Orihime lifted herself from the sand, brushing it from her skin and out of her hair. Now that Tatsuki had gotten her more physical scolding out of her system, she seemed prepared for part two of her scolding.

Her lean hands placed themselves on her hips, and her eyes narrowed to stare accusingly at Orihime. Orihime shrunk, fingers moving to fiddle together behind her back as her head bowed forward with shame.

"Do you know how  _worried_  we were? We thought you'd gone and gotten yourself  _killed_!" Tatsuki scolded. "What if you'd been captured? Humans have started releasing their nets deeper and deeper."

Her tone, still filled underlying with rage, held a distinct hint of fear that made Orihime ache with shame. Her friend was worried – and she had no doubt Rangiku had also held the same fears despite her calm attitude when she had found her. They, better than most, knew the dangers of men.

"I'm sorry Tatsuki-chan… I just… Went to-to…" She trailed off, absolutely loathing the idea of lying to her friends – her  _family_. But it seemed Rangiku was prepared to do so for her.

"Our little Orihime was visiting a  _young merman_ …" She teased, draping an arm over Tatsuki's shoulders lazily. Tatsuki's head snapped to the side as she stared at Rangiku incredulously. Orihime bit the inside of her cheek sharply and tasted blood.

" _What_?"

"Mhm… she won't tell me  _who_  though. She won't tell me a thing about him actually," Rangiku pouted, looking very much like a child that had been denied a teat. " _so_ , I figured we would interrogate her  _together_ …"

Tatsuki stared at Rangiku for several long moments, her face blank.

And then, to Orihime's absolute horror, a slow grin covered her face. Her dark eyes slid over to Orihime, and she froze in terror at the absolute  _glee_  in her gaze.

She tried to swim away – really, she did – but the two lady warriors were too fast. They each grabbed one of her arms and began to tow her back into their shared underwater home.

"I-I need to go make a new bag!" She babbled, hoping it would serve a satisfactory excuse for escape.

"I dropped mine down a trench – how am I supposed to collect pearls if I don't have a bag,  _Tatsuki-chan, Rangiku-san!"_ She cried.

"Later Orihime," Rangiku grinned as they pulled her inside, brushing aside the swaying strings of seashells that hung in the doorway instead of a door. Mermaids had no need to worry about stealing; they gave freely and cared for one another equally. Decorations such as seashells hung in front of doorways and windows for privacy and appearances sake. A mermaid's home was for gathering friends together for festivities, for family, and for resting one's weary bones.

The inside of their home was simple, with three different nooks for sleeping rather than having entire rooms for themselves. Each nook was large enough for two mermaids to fit snugly together, or for a single mermaid to stretch in comfort. Over each nook, a roll of heavy fabric was pinned above to later be unrolled and provide one with a semblance of privacy – as well as keep them from floating away as they slept.

They deposited her into her own nook and sandwiched her between them. The young mermaid pressed herself flat against the smooth stone, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape from the incoming interrogation. The gentle swaying of her pink seashell strung curtains caught her gaze.

_Maybe, I can swim out the window before-_

"Do we know him?" Rangiku asked eagerly, leaning into what was left of Orihime's personal space.

"Is he a good guy at least? Does he treat you all right, Orihime?" Tatsuki's eyes narrowed.

They waited.

Orihime's mouth opened, closed, and opened again. She was not sure what to say.

"He-he- well, no?" She squeaked.

Tatsuki bristled, eyes flashing dangerously.

"He _isn't_  a good guy?"

Rangiku leaned even closer.

"We  _don't_  know him?"

They stared at her, waiting.

"Y-you don't know him. He – he is um…" Orihime hesitated, lips pursing thoughtfully.

The memory of the human man ( _Ichigo_ , her mind whispered) scolding his comrade after having saved him ran through her mind.

"…very good…" Her voice was soft when she answered. Tatsuki and Rangiku glanced at each other.

" _Very_  good huh?" Tatsuki grinned slowly.

"E-Eh?"

"How good, Orihime?" Rangiku mirrored Tatsuki, her voice a suggestive purr. Orihime blinked.

"Very?"

"Orihime – don't spare us  _any_  details – how big is his- "

"Rangiku!" Tatsuki whirled around to face the grinning merwoman with wide eyes. Orihime's face had turned an astonishing shade of red.

"Fin! I was going to say  _Fin!_ "

" _Liar_."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Ichi-nii?" Yuzu's soft voice implored, sad brown eyes gazing up at him with a hope he didn't dare crush. And although it unsettled him, he took a bite of the offered spoonful of soup. It was hot and might have tasted delicious any other time, but it somehow it now tasted bland.

Yuzu smiled, pacified as she brought the spoon back into the bowl on her lap. And he hoped dearly that she didn't intend to make him swallow any more.

"I'm feeling tired Yuzu," an excuse. "I hate to ask you to leave but- "

She was already placing his soup on a tray and setting it on his nightstand. An understanding look crossed her face, and he felt no small amount of guilt from it.

"Of course! I'm sorry Ichi-nii, Urahara-san  _did_  say you should be resting!" She began to fuss over him, tugging his covers over his chin in such a familiar motherly way it almost made him grin.

Though she had not spent any time with their mother before her death, at least that she would remember, Yuzu had taken after her in spades.

"I'll be all right, Yuzu." He stretched a hand out towards her, tousling her hair fondly. She pouted, smoothing her short brown locks, and righting her hairpin. She smiled, nodding her head quickly.

When the door clicked shut behind Yuzu in her departure, Ichigo closed his eyes.

Once again, he saw  _her_  face. Pale, heart-shaped, and beautiful. He heard her soft vocalizations echoing in his mind, and he wondered idly If she had been a siren.

His lips curved into a heavy scowl and he opened his eyes once more to stare at the wall. Its brown and gold detailed design – something his mother had chosen for him – offered a sense of familiarity that calmed his thoughts.

He had been home for four days now. Four days of a constant watch from his sisters, his father, and every servant in the Karakura castle. They had practically confined him to his bed, worried in some way or another that he would hurt himself.

His family has hailed it a miracle, a gift from God that he had washed up on their shores. But he knew differently.

Ichigo grumbled lowly under his breath, rolling over to his side with a small wince, as he began to silently stew in his own thoughts. He raised a hand, flexing his fingers and turning his palm away to stare at the unblemished skin.

Another mystery. He had been uninjured, except for his left side which had been bruised to absolute hell. But he distinctly remembered extending this very hand in an instinctual move to catch himself – though he hadn't the faintest idea how he had intended to do  _that_  when falling through the air. He had told Urahara– the  _possibly_  clinically insane Royal Physician/Scientist – what he remembered of his fall, and the last location of the  _Senbonzakura_. Urahara had deduced that Ichigo's recollection of the event had been exaggerated, and that he merely fell overboard rather than from the top mast.

His hand dropped back down to one of the many pillows he rested against he recalled the doctors' words.

" _You would be dead Kurosaki-san,"_  He had chided with a flip of his gaudy green fan, a women's accessory that Ichigo dearly hoped his father would not take the habit of carrying as well.  _"if you had indeed fallen from such a height you would be – at best – paralyzed and unable to function."_

He wanted to rest, wanted to  _dream_.

According to his father, there had still been no word from the  _Senbonzakura_. They were missing, all lost in the storm that had moved its way steadily down the coast for the past week. If the ship survived, there was no telling where they were or if his friends were even  _alive_. And yet here he was, daydreaming about a girl that may not even exist like a lovestruck fool.

He felt foolish. How many surviving sailors had said they saw beautiful women that did not even  _exist_  once they had been found? The answer was _every single damn one_. In a few days, he would realize how stupid he was being. He would wake up and realize that her skin was shimmering because she was just a phantom of heat exhaustion, nothing more.

He could still feel her hands on his cheeks, soft and warm. He could still smell her hair as it brushed his neck and skimmed over his bare chest; honeyed sunshine. His eyes closed, and he found himself seeking the memory more than trying to push it away. Ichigo sighed heavily, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead to alleviate the headache all this  _thinking_  was causing.

Feeling restless, Ichigo flung the thick down blankets off his legs and stood. His movements were shaky, downright weak after resting for so long. His normal long confident stride was replaced with something so pathetic he felt  _ashamed_  of himself. Even if it was excused by injury. It would be several days before he would be able to do anything even slightly physically demanding, and the thought irked him.

He wanted to be at sea again, even after all that had happened. He  _needed_  to be at sea.

The crew of the  _Senbonzakura_  needed him. It wasn't that he discredited Byakuya and Renji as leaders and sailors; he felt ashamed that he had made it out when they could all still be in danger. He needed to help them. Bring them  _home_. Even if he didn't have the dimmest clue as to how he would even do that.

He slowly walked over to the French doors that lead to his balcony, throwing them open to limp out and lean against the wide stone railing. The balcony was large, with three comfortable chairs lined up to face the ocean. This was where he spent most of his time when he was not away at sea. And often his sisters would join him here when they were not captured in their studies. If he was not here, he would be walking along the beach waiting to set sail again.

Ichigo eased himself into one of the simple chairs with a heavy sigh, leaning his head back to gaze out at the waves slowly rolling in the distance through hooded eyes. Even in the dark, he could see every little curve of the waves.

The stars reflected, clear and bright, on the surface of the water; creating the illusion that the night sky had merged with the ocean and become one and the same. There were no clouds, and no moon to be seen. In the calm, and in the silence, it was easy to forget his troubles. To simply exist.

Yes, from here, he could see the ocean in all its glory. He could see the way it seemed so… endless. He could see the sun rise over the horizon every morning, completely unobstructed. He could see the way the earth curved, yet also how it still seemed so impossibly  _big_. As a young boy it had always fascinated him, and as a man it captured him in a never-ending trance. His mother had called him a  _natural adventurer_.

His eyes closed, and he inhaled the scent of the ocean breeze on the night air.

Still, he could not get the strange young woman out of his head. She seemed insistent on staying there, in fact. And he wanted to feel frustrated by it, but he found that he couldn't be. Because she had felt so real. And if she was, then she had indeed saved him.

Truly, seeing her was a  _memory_ , not a mirage caused by exhaustion. He still didn't dare tell his father or sisters what –  _who_  – he had seen. They would either tease him, fuss over him, or commit him if he insisted too much. It would be better to shut his mouth and stay quiet about the entire situation.

Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl tugging at his lips as he opened his eyes and considered the endless expanse of ocean before him.

He was not a scholar by any means, though he had certainly had the best tutors try to make him one, but he was smart. The girl he had seen and continued to see every time he closed his eyes, was obviously connected to the ocean he was drawn to. Not in the same way that he was but connected nonetheless. And there was a chance, however small, that she might also know what happened to the crew of the  _Senbonzakura_.

In that very moment, looking down at the ocean below, he made a silent promise.

He would find her.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

If he hadn't returned back to his room, if he had stayed out just a few minutes longer, he might have seen the tiny head of auburn hair poking through the surface.

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/8/18  
> So I recognize that there had previously been a somewhat different chapter two before... but I thought to myself "thats a shit chapter, what have you done, do better for them" and sorta... bam.  
> Please, favorite, follow, and comment your thoughts! It really does motivate me to keep writing for you.


	3. Chapter 3

Calloused fingers fiddle with a flat rock, studying the smooth surface for several moments before flicking it toward the open water.

It vanishes in the waves.

He stood on the beach, on the very spot he was found only six days past. The sand was soft and warm under his bare feet, and the waves crashed rhythmically against the rocks cropping out along the shoreline. The sun, which was just reaching its highest point in the sky, warmed the exposed skin of his forearms and the back of his neck.

It was familiar. And if he closed his eyes, it almost felt as if he were back out at sea. On the  _Senbonzakura_ ; the very ship he hoped to soon see on the horizon. The only vessels he could sight were that of merchants and fishermen heading to the village several miles down the coast.

It was the fifth time he had walked past this spot in the past hour alone. A part of him was hoping that someone would be there every time he did. Be it someone from the crew of the  _Senbonzakura_ , or the woman that had saved him. And like every other time he passed, it was empty. Only a few scuttling crabs and hungry seagulls.

He scowled out at the cove, arms folding over his chest as he thought. A part of him was tempted to see if anyone had washed up on the other side of the rocks, but the chances of that were zero to none.

He had a meeting with his father soon. A meeting where they would decide if he could go and search for the crew of the  _Senbonzakura_  on his own or not. It was something that Ichigo knew he would have to fight tooth and nail for. And with no sign of the ship in a week, it was difficult for him to remain still knowing his crew was lost at sea.

Hopefully, the meeting would turn in his favor and he would be able to obtain his own vessel and a small crew. He was positive that the reason there was no sight of the Senbonzakura was that he was not the one leading the search. He had been the last person to see it, and he was the only person who knew exactly what its location had been before the storm hit. And he could find them; he was sure of it.

But first, he needed to convince his father of that.

His jaw clenched with determination at the thought, his gaze flickering back up toward the Karakura Castle. Built hundreds of years ago, it still stood proudly; a gargantuan beacon of hope to the townspeople beyond its royal walls. He should consider it home, but after his mother passed it had never felt like much of one.

His home was rolling waves, creaking floorboards, and billowing sails. Barking orders and the laughter filled shouting of men he trusted with his life as they scrambled up the masts in a dangerous race. Even the disapproving gaze of the Captain when they were caught fooling around was something he missed.

And he would fight to get it back.

With his goal in mind, he squared his shoulders and began his sandy trek back to the castle.

**.**

In the Karakura castle, there were two large ballrooms meant for gatherings of a hundred people or more. One was smaller in size, meant for meetings between the King and subjects or diplomates of other Kingdoms. He now stood in the throne room, several feet away from the risen section of the floor where two royal thrones sat side by side.

The throne room was large, yet only half the size of the ballroom which was more suited for grand parties as the name suggested. It was a rectangular room, with a large red ornate rug that ran from one end where the double doors were and up the short series of steps to the throne. Large six-foot-tall paintings of past Kings lined the walls; paintings of his grandfather, and his father before him. Tapestries of red and gold bearing the Kurosaki crest hung between each painting.

He had countless memories in this room. He could remember practicing his letters behind his father's large, tall-backed throne. And the way his mother would sneak him treats from her robes when she got the chance. He remembered the first time his father had ordered a chair placed beside his mothers, and the first time he sat in officially to greet a visiting noble. He had hardly sat still for even a moment. His mother's throne now sat empty.

Beside her empty throne, his father sat on his own. As per usual, he had donned fine clothing of vibrant colors and excellent quality; along with a large fluffy cape Ichigo  _dearly_  wanted to burn out of existence. It was long, voluminous, and bright red. It draped obnoxiously off the throne and pooled around his fathers' feet. The tailor responsible for making it had called it  _elegant_  but Ichigo called it gaudy.

His father was a tall man with dark hair and eyes. The similarities between Ichigo and his father were few, but he knew they had the same general build – his father always raved about how Ichigo was growing into a  _handsome man_  like him. But where Ichigo had gotten his own outrageous hair color, he would never know. His mother's hair had been a suitable light brown, something Yuzu had inherited.

As standard, two guards stood behind his fathers' throne ever vigilant. They were suited in fine silver armor with the symbol of Karakura emblazoned upon the chest. Both carried swords of excellent make at their hips. Unlike the guards outside the twin doors to the large room, they did not kneel as Ichigo approached. Their position needed them to always remain on their feet.

And while it was widely known the Prince was no threat to the King, there was an obvious unease to them as they shifted.

For now, Isshin Kurosaki, the King of Karakura, gazed down at Ichigo from his throne, an uncharacteristically serious frown on his face and a sad look in his eyes. Whereas Ichigo looked betrayed,  _angry_. But it was clear the King was not about to retract what he had just said, despite how apologetic he seemed considering the situation.

"Ichigo. I will not send my  _only son_ \- "

" _Fuck_  that!"

It was clear his outburst was expected, from the calm look on his father's face as he watched Ichigo fume, and that only served to piss Ichigo off  _more_. Still, he continued to try and argue his reasoning and reign in his notorious temper.

"They  _need me_. I'm the only one who knows those waters well enough to pass through."

"I understand Ichigo… but you have to understand.  _We_  need you as well. Your value to the Kingdom- "

"My  _crew_  have value dammit!" Any attempt to keep his temper in check ceased.

"They  _do_  have value, Ichigo, I am not saying otherwise. But  _this_ … needs to stop. Losing you…" King Isshin's face grew somber as he trailed off.

Ichigo's temper flared, his teeth gnashing together in anger as he glared up at his father. And even under all his anger, he could not help but feel a sharp stab of pain in his chest. It was clear what the old man meant.

Ichigo turned around sharply on his heel, away from his father's apologetic gaze, and marched his way out the doors of the throne room. His father did nothing to stop him as he left.

The large oak doors slammed shut behind him, and the guards lined in the hall stirred uncomfortably as he passed. It was obvious they had heard everything, and with Ichigo's yelling, it was impossible  _not_  to.

His father's words echoed in his ears, repeating over and over in a maddening tribute to his anger. His boots sounded loudly against the thick carpeting that covered the stone floor of the castle, candles that flickered as he passed.

" _We have decided to stop searching for the_ Senbonzakura _…"_

As if he would just  _not_ look for his friends! As if he would stop sailing just because of what happened! His father must be crazy. If it was really going to come down to this, if his father was going to stop the search, _he_  would take it upon himself. Even if he had to rent a fucking  _fishing boat_ , he would find them. Damn what his father orders.

"Ah, Kurosaki-san, it seems you're off in a hurry." A lazy voice drawled as he passed, and he paused.

Urahara Kisuke, a close friend of the royal family and a man with too many titles to remember, stepped out from the shadows. The same hallway, Ichigo knew, that lead to one of the most advanced laboratories on Earth. Isshin was one of few Kings who believed in the practice of science and even encouraged it.

Urahara dressed casually today. In fact, a bit  _too_  casually to be wandering the castle. His breeches were straight at the leg, he was barefoot, and his typical dark green shirt hung open under the strange lab coat he fancied to wear  _everywhere_. His hair was wild and wet (the reason for which Ichigo didn't  _want_ to know), and it seemed he hadn't found a reason to shave in two days either. He looked as if he had just crawled out of bed, and considering it was past noon it was likely that was the case.

"I'm sure you already know why… bet you and my old man already had a talk about it before I ever had a chance…" Ichigo glared accusingly at Urahara, but the older man gave nothing away as his shoulders shrugged.

"Your father and I speak about a lot – why, just the other day there was a lovely young maiden – "

"I  _don't_  need to know." Ichigo's lips curled and he shuddered. He turned on his heel, prepared to head toward his rooms to change into clothing more suited for visiting the village. Thoughts of obtaining a ship were already on his mind and had been since his father refused his proposal. He had enough coin, and a few friends left who would surely join him on his expedition.

" _Me_? I am but a humble- "

"Pain in my ass," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

"-  _scientist_!"

Ichigo cast the odd man a sideways glance that spoke volumes.

"… And doctor…  _and_  loyal advisor to our King… I am also finding that I have  _quite_  the skill for painting portraits as of late." Urahara flipped open his fan and began to flutter it in front of his face like a shy lady of the court.

"Every time you speak, I'm less and  _less_  surprised you and my old man are friends…" Ichigo said dryly.

"So very mean, Prince Ichigo!"

Ichigo made a sound in the back of his throat, but before he could continue his angry stride down the palace halls to his room Urahara's hand came down on his shoulder to stop him. And stop he did, but not without casting another signature glare toward the blond man.

"Prince Ichigo… I understand your reluctance to let fate survive your comrades… but we have been without our Prince for too long." He spoke softly, yet sternly. As if speaking to a young child that was struggling to grasp an important concept. Ichigo shook him off, pulling his shoulder from Urahara's grasp with a single step away. He leveled the scientist with a determined gaze and stubborn jaw.

"My crew needs me more  _right now_  than the Kingdom does."

And with those parting words Ichigo continued down the long castle hallway, his stride long and purposeful, oblivious to the calculating gaze of the scientist on his back.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Orihime twisted a pearl between her fingers, holding it aloft with a curious expression.

It was rounded, smooth and pure white. A fine pearl that would be a high trade value in the markets. She slid it into the satchel at her hip, adjusting the strap across her chest, and continued to swim slowly along the bottom of the ocean.

Every mermaid had a job. While many aspired to be warriors of the deep, some favored the other tasks of their society. Some wove creations, such as the satchel she wore, and some harvested food, and some built structures for living in. The more adventurous, but cautious mermaids, herded fish across the oceans to their destinations. A mermaid would find a task most suited to their personality or skill, for both enjoyment and efficiency, and stay to the same task until death.

And Orihime had taken to pearl harvesting.

The harvesting of pearls took more effort and a gentle hand as oysters were shy, and sometimes stubborn creatures. Convincing them to hold even a single grain of sand took a lot of patience. It was like asking someone to hold a rock in their closed mouth until it was smooth. The next difficult part of the task needed getting the oysters to actually  _open_. There were strict rules when it came to pearl harvesting, and above all else, it was forbidden to harm them by any means. Normally, only mermaids with an affinity for sea creatures could manage such a task.

The harvesting grounds were just outside the limits of The Golden Kingdom. From here, she could gaze at the splendor of the mermaid Kingdom in familiar awe and appreciation. Truly, the place she had called home for so long was beautiful.

It was a large underwater city of coral and stone, the _only_  underwater city of its kind. Its structures were smoothed to shape by hundreds of years of underwater currents and careful tools. At its center stood the Golden Palace, made of towering twisted spires of pure white stone said to rise from the heart of the hearth. Small, cozy underwater homes rose from the surrounding stone, which spanned outward by a mile in the shape of a round disc. It was a single solid piece of coral and stone.

She knew that it was possible – in absolute dire situations – to _move_  the grand Kingdom from one place to the next, as was intended by its design. It had only been done twice, as it disrupted the underwater environment catastrophically. Once hundreds of years ago, when it was first built, and again when she was only a little girl. Now, it sat stagnantly. The moving underwater city would never move again, so long as the secret of mermaids remained protected.

There were times when she almost thought it sad that humans would never see it.

The beauty of The Golden Kingdom was truly otherworldly, and it was the place she had called home since she was a little one. One would think that after living in the shadow of the Golden Palace for so long, she would have grown used to it.

She could still remember its vast white hallways and the strong currents that had nearly been too much for her tiny tail to handle. If her brother hadn't been holding her hand, she might have been swept away.

That day, she had met the King of the Seven Seas.

It had been the only time she laid eyes on him, when she was a very small slip of a thing barely any faster than a guppy, and it left a lasting impression on her young mind. And she could still remember the overwhelming aura of power and respect that enveloped him. It had filled the area, coated the walls, and clouded her eyes.

His beard was long and white, his tail deep red and powerful. Scars of battles past marked the skin of his neck, chest, and arms. Although he was old, his posture was strong, and his shoulders squared as he stared down at her. In one large, scarred hand, he held a heavy and grand trident that was easily double the length she was. The moment he had struck it upon the ground to start, the very sea had seemed to rumble.

The thirteen guards, a guard for each towering spire of the Golden City, had not flinched. They remained impassive, lined along the walls with their spears at the ready. As if the young mermaid would lunge toward their imposing King and attack him. Even her brother, who she believed to be the strongest and most brave merman ever, had cringed despite himself.

She had been  _terrified_.

But he was a kind King; a  _good_  King. His expression, while stern, had only barely hidden the kind eyes that gazed down at her with assurances of protection. He had asked her name, beckoned her forward to tell him what she wanted to be when she grew up, and sent her off with a tiny pearl clutched in her hand – encouraging her dream. And she knew then and there that her King would always protect them; protect her.

The Golden Kingdom was the only place Mermaids lived in the seven seas. Mermaids, by nature, are social creatures who despise loneliness and believe in safety in numbers. Very few live farther than a league away, and even then, will make daily trips to the city just to visit with friends.

Her fingertips softly caressed the top of the next oyster on her metal list, and she had only to wake a few seconds before it opened, and a tiny white pearl was spat onto the sand. It shut tight once more.

"You did so well." She soothed it with a beaming smile, picking up the finished pearl. It wiggled back into the sand and she moved on to the next one. She gently guided it back into the sand; its pearl was not ready to harvest quite yet.

At the most, she could harvest ten pearls a week. A feat that was quite impressive for such a young mermaid. When she wasn't harvesting, she would be caring for them. And she enjoyed that task the most. They enjoyed listening to her talk, or at least she hoped so. They were not the most intelligent creatures of the sea, but she didn't mind. They were sweet in their own ways.

After collecting the 4th pearl of the week, she took a place on a rock and clasped her hands together to watch the rest of the oyster's burrow under the sand once more for protection. And she sighed, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers.

It was times like these, when she wasn't harvesting, that she sometimes wished she catered to the dolphins. They were very chatty, happy creatures that were always on the move. But she wouldn't have been able to keep up with them for the long distances they swam.

Of course, even harvesting pearls hadn't really been her first idea for a job. She had wanted to learn how to heal –  _without_  using her abilities – but Sora feared that she would be too tempted to use them. So, she had decided upon the next best thing.

She cupped her cheek, lips pursing in a pout. And she idly wondered what humans did for work.

Surely there were humans who built such grand structures like the human palace, as well as the vessels that sailed the seas, and she couldn't imagine that they didn't have a need for  _food_.

Once again, she sighed.

It had been a week since the incident, and Tatsuki and Rangiku still did not know she snuck out to the human settlement every night. She felt no small amount of guilt for hiding it from them either. They had taken care of her for years, and in lying to them she felt like she was betraying them.

When her brother had died, it was Rangiku who took her in. Rangiku, as it so happened, was related to Orihime, a distant cousin, but they had not known it. When Sora had died, Rangiku had been notified of Orihime's blood relationship to her. It had been merely a happy coincidence that Orihime's care went to someone she trusted at such a delicate time in her life, as the two had already known and been fond of each other for quite a few years. And they lived together for several years in the tiny stone home on the outskirts of the Golden Kingdom, left to Orihime by her brother. Once Orihime's time of learning was done, Tatsuki joined them.

Tatsuki was Orihime's dearest friend since childhood. The two had spent countless days together, playing and adventuring as far as they dared. They shared their dreams together and grew side by side into the young mermaids they were today. Aside from Rangiku, Tatsuki was the only living being who knew of Orihime's uniqueness. And just like Rangiku, she helped Orihime guard her secret viciously.

They all loved each other and protected each other, like a true family. And Orihime knew their hearts would break if they learned of what she had done. Even despite it all, there were few moments she found herself thinking of what happened with a hint of  _longing_. Which only intensified her feelings of guilt.

A tiny part of her also hoped that with him being in an influential position, she could convince him to tell his people to stop hunting mermaids. Surely, they could all live in harmony together. There just needed to be a  _push_. A part of her wanted to believe that her finding him had been destiny trying to guide them toward peace.

Her head fell into her hands.

It was wishful thinking and more of an  _excuse_  than anything. She knew she was being greedy now. She was not an ambassador for their kind by any means, she had simply been in the right place at the right time. Or rather, the  _wrong_ place at the  _wrong_  time by mermaid standards.

"Orihime!"

Her smile reformed at the sight of Tatsuki approaching, pushing her way through the short patches of seaweed in the ocean floor.

"Tatsuki!" Orihime smiled at her approaching friend, ensured her satchel was firmly clamped shut, and quickly swam to meet her. The bag bounced on her hip, pearls rattling faintly as she swam.

"I thought training was going to take longer today?" She asked curiously as she stopped before the lady warrior. Tatsuki shook her head.

"No, there was an emergency meeting at the Royal Castle. I'm not a high enough rank to join that sort of thing –  _yet_  – but Rangiku will probably tell us everything when she gets home." The purple finned mermaid rolled her eyes with a playful smirk.

"Tatsuki, you shouldn't pester Rangiku-" Orihime began, concern coloring her voice. Tatsuki waved a hand, cutting her off.

"I was kidding. Sheesh." Tatsuki stuck her tongue out playfully.

"I thought I'd grab you, so we could go find something to eat." She looped a slim arm with Orihime's, patting the back of her hand affectionately. "My treat."

The beautiful mermaid beamed, nodding excitedly and practically began to tow her friend toward the underwater kingdom in the distance. Her tail moved fast, kicking up sand as images of all the delicious delicacies she would soon eat filled her mind. Tatsuki laughed heartily, easily keeping up.

"Easy, easy! The food will run away if you swim like that!"

Orihime smiled brilliantly back at her, her tail twisting and curling in her excitement.

"That's the point! You get so bored if they don't!" She reasoned, releasing Tatsuki's arm to place her hands on her hips and nod as though to the action would prove her point.

Tatsuki grinned and nodded in agreement, reaching a hand behind her back to smoothly slide her spear from its binding at her back. It was nearly as long as she was, and undoubtedly heavy, but she wielded it as though it was nothing more than a tiny twig between her fingers. She twisted it around in a fantastic display of dexterity before gripping it firmly in both hands.

"Well, I suppose I have more energy to hunt today anyway…"

"Yes! Let's find some squid!" Orihime cheered, swimming in fast circles around her friend with her arms up above her head.

"Easy, easy!" Tatsuki repeated, grabbing hold of a long length of auburn hair and tugging it gently to stop Orihime's dizzying circling. "You'll tire yourself out! And I don't plan on doing  _all_ the work, lazy."

"Awwah, but _Tatsuki!_ "

**.**

For the seventh night in a row, she found herself only inches from the surface of the small cove from which she had last seen him. The cool night air touched her cheeks, chilling her in a now familiar way. She couldn't regulate her temperature outside of the water and wondered if that was why humans always wore so much over their bodies.

No, that was not entirely right.

Humans were warm all on their own. She could still feel the warmth of his skin on her hands, the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the strength of his jaw when she cupped it in her attempt to rouse him. He had radiated heat, like the sun. And she also remembered feeling the terror at that moment that her efforts of saving him had been worth nothing. Had she noticed the rise and fall of his chest, sooner, she wouldn't have felt such fear. Or perhaps she _did_  notice it, and she was too busy marveling at how utterly and  _heartbreakingly_  handsome he was.

If possible, her cheeks grew even redder. A single hand came to rest on her left breast, feeling the steady beat of her heart as if fearing it would soon leap from her chest.

She had been worried it wouldn't work at first… she had never used her gift on a  _human_ before. But the fact that he had gotten up, and walked away, had proved it did in fact work. But if anyone found out what she had done, she imagined the punishment would be the most severe the law of the sea would allow. The fact that her gift was so rare and valuable made it even worse.

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. Her tail flicked in the water with her own growing anxiety as she continued to feel no real compulsion to leave as she knew she should. Logically, she knew she was in danger staying where she was. There was one entrance to the cove, and if it were to be cut off she would be trapped. She would be almost painfully easy to capture. And even knowing this she found she couldn't move. Not until she was sure…

The image of him, standing tall on the beach, tousled hair and hand outstretched toward her as if beckoning her closer, flashed before her eyes.

A reckless part of her was hoping that he would appear before her again, despite the danger it would bring. She was almost  _praying_  for it. She wanted to see him, talk to him,  _touch_  him. Her cheeks heated at the thought and her chest felt tight. It was not particularly an uncomfortable feeling, but still strange and new. So, she had returned. Again, and again during the night even though she knew that humans didn't usually venture outside their homes after dark. Their eyesight was terrible at night.

For the thousandth time, she looked up at the looming human structure on the cliff.

It was not unlike the Royal Palace of her home; tall, and far too large for a single family. Its stone was rougher in appearance, and pure white, built from crude rectangles rather than from one large stone like the Royal Palace of her home. It was something she found odd, but not off-putting. In fact, it somehow seemed more inviting for it, being warm and inviting instead of cold and intimidating. It was so impressive, and she wondered how in the world they reached the tops of the many towers – unless humans could somehow fly in the air like seagulls could.

If Rangiku or Tatsuki knew she was sneaking out to visit the human settlement, she could only imagine the scolding she would receive. Or perhaps scolding was putting it lightly. They would lock her up and throw away the key. The frightening part was, she wouldn't be able to blame them.

After all, Tatsuki had been particularly vicious, tacking Orihime in such a way. Showing that just the mere  _thought_  that Orihime had been  _near_ humans had set her into a fit of worry. Thankfully the distraction Rangiku offered eased her first worry.

Later, however, Rangiku had told Tatsuki where she had found Orihime. Far away from the Golden Kingdom – leagues away. Tatsuki had practically had a fit. After Rangiku finished explaining that she found the young mermaid, several leagues  _away_  from any sort human settlement, Tatsuki had calmed and said that if Orihime had been in no danger then she would get off – just this once.

But the truth was, Orihime  _had_  been in danger; more than either of them would ever know. And she hated lying to them.

Her fingers curled into tiny fists, one against her cheek and the other still resting over her heart, as her lips pursed in thought. Once again, she gathered her nerves.

She peeked over the small rock and peered at the beach. And just as with all the other nights, she was met with an empty sandy shore and the darkened windows of the castle above. The tiny forbidden flutter of her heart was crushed yet again, and her shoulders slumped with a defeated sigh. He was likely to still be recovering. She knew that logically, but still a dangerous part of her hoped that maybe – just maybe – he would be there, standing right there on the shore.

He was not.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Calculating gray eyes watched as a head of auburn hair vanished under the surface of the ocean.

 


End file.
